Reunification
by FatherJerusalem
Summary: re-u'ni-fi-ca'tion, noun; the act of coming together again.
1. Prologue

Dedicated to all of the writers who have kept this fandom alive for the past ten (well, almost) years. You guys are epic.

Spoilers: Non-movie compliant, but spoilers for everything. Including bits of the movie that I have appropriated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars (or anything else). No infringement is intended. Please don't sue. I'm broke as fuck.

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**Reunification**

**1\. Prologue**

**Hearst College Cafeteria**  
**Neptune, California**  
**Tuesday, May 22, 2007**  
**11:37 a.m.**

A hushed murmur emanated from the group of students standing around in shock, jaws gaping open, whispering to one another as they glanced warily at the bloody, battered body lying on the floor of Hearst's cafeteria. Gory Sorokin tried his hardest to ignore that whispers as he twitched and groaned on the ground, spitting a mouthful of blood at one of the gawkers as he tried to regain some semblance of his surroundings.

He moved gingerly, trying to sit up, feeling his ribs aching from where that matershchina had kicked them. He braced one hand on the ground and lifted himself up off the floor before having to catch himself from falling once more, coughing loudly and spitting another gob of blood on the ground as the murmurs from the onlookers finally started piercing his hazy senses.

He sneered at the collection of college students, trying to maintain some veneer of intimidation, trying to make sure that everybody on this kakashka campus knew that he was still Gory Fucking Sorokin and that he was still better than these krest'yanin.

Campus security burst through the crowd of spectators, looking around wildly, trying to ascertain what had happened.

"What's going on here? Who did this?" shouted the head security person on scene.

"Uh, I dunno man. I was just getting some lunch when I heard a scuffle and bam, this dude was beating the shit out of this other dude and it was like blammo and shit. Dude got fuuuuuuuuuucked up, man." muttered one of the gathered students, eyes shifting about as he carefully pushed a small glassine bag deeper into his pocket, hoping that the security guard would be too distracted by the tableau of violence to notice the pungent smell of weed emanating off of him.

"Sir," the campus security guard said, cataloguing the unlucky stoner's face in his mind, as he helped the injured student to his feet, "do you require assistance? Do you know what happened here?"

"Nyet", he spat. "Mne ne nuzhno svoy grebanyy pomoshch'. Eto ublyudok i yego malen'kaya suka . YA sobirayus' nayti ikh. YA sobirayus' zastavit' ikh zaplatit' za eto oskorbleniye. YA zastavlyu ikh zaplatit'. Nikto ne stavit svoi ruki na menya . Nikto . Oni chertovski mertv. Oba iz nikh. Teper' otvali na vash master , krest'yanina. YA ne nuzhna vasha pomoshch'."

("No. I do not need your fucking help. That motherfucker and his little bitch. I'm going to find them. I'm going to make them pay for this insult. I will make them pay. Nobody puts their hands on me. Nobody. They're fucking dead. Both of them. Now fuck off back to your master, peasant. I don't need your help.")

"Sir… I don't know what you're saying." stated the security guard, as he tried desperately to maintain control of the situation. He took a step back as Gory struggled to his feet, flinching at the rage and hate he saw in the beaten student's eyes when Gory turned his glare towards him.

"I said no. I don't need your help. I'm leaving."

Gory struggled to the exit of the cafeteria, limping slowly towards the door, smiling softly to himself at the thoughts of revenge playing through his mind. Oh yes. He would make them pay. Especially the little blonde. Her he would most definitely enjoy making pay.

**Neptune Grand Hotel**  
**Penthouse Suite**  
**Neptune, California**  
**Tuesday, May 22, 2007**  
**12:42 p.m.**

Veronica Mars stood outside of Logan Echolls' hotel room door, pacing back and forth, trying to muster the courage to knock. She had left the cafeteria in a daze having watched her ex-boyfriend pummel that sick fuck Gory Sorokin into the ground. And, worst of all, she hadn't been ashamed of Logan's actions… or afraid… no, she'd been a little turned on at the sight of her ex as he pounded his fist into Gory's face repeatedly.

The difference between Logan and Piz had never been made more explicit than this afternoon as Piz had tried to pull her away from confronting a group of sniggering upperclassmen who had seen their "sex tape", stating that karma would get them… Veronica, however, was not the kind of girl to believe in karma. Karma worked too slowly for her. Sometimes, what karma needed, was a kick in the ass and that's what she was there to provide.

So when Logan had nodded in understanding that Gory was untouchable, and then proceeded to ignore her warning and kick the everloving shit out of him, she had finally come to the realization that as fucked up as he was… as fucked up as _they_ were… he was the only one that would actually understand her.

Piz was nice. And for some girl, she was sure that he'd make a lovely boyfriend.

But she wasn't just "some girl" and as she had reached down and retrieved her pen from Gory's torn shirt pocket, she had finally come to terms with that fact. More importantly, it seemed, Piz had finally come to terms with that fact as well.

She had stared after Logan as he walked out of the cafeteria, eyes locked on his lean form before she managed to catch herself; glancing guiltily over at Piz, she caught the disappointment and resignation on his face.

"Don't say it, Veronica. I saw the look on your face. You get off on this." He had railed at her.  
"You know that? It's like a drug to you. He's like a drug to you. I hope you can figure out what you want before it kills you, because I know it's not me, and I'm not going to pretend that it is. I thought that if I could get you to go out with me, you'd see that life doesn't have to be all… violence and intensity."

He sighed, and shrugged his shoulders, an air of finality about him as he gestured towards her. "Apparently I was wrong, and I'm not going to stick around to watch him destroy you another time. I'll see you around." And he, too, walked out of the cafeteria. Obstinately in the opposite direction that Logan had gone, even though his next class happened to be through that same door.

Surprisingly, being dumped by Piz made her feel… almost relieved. Now she wouldn't have to pretend anymore. Now she wouldn't have to hurt him by breaking up with him, or hurt him worse by staying with him. Now she was free to finally try to figure out how to be herself again after these past few months of trying to suppress her inner Veronica-ness.

Sure, she still helped people when they needed it, but ever since the Madison revelation and the last breakup with Logan, things had felt… muddled. Hazy. Wrong. And now, standing here, outside Logan's door, she felt like things were finally starting to become right again.

"Okay Veronica. You've stalled long enough. Time to put up or shut up. Get back up on that horse. Other motivational sayings. You can do this. It's just Logan. He's not _that_ scary."

"I'm not?" came from a voice behind her in the hall.

Veronica whirled around, losing her balance and stumbling back against the closed door, breathing heavily as she caught sight of Logan leaning against the hallway wall.

"_God DAMN that boy can lean."_ She thought as she let her eyes wander up and down his body, lingering on his bruised and bloody knuckles.

"Well, now that we've established that I'm not that scary… were you ever planning on knocking?"

"Uh. Yeah. Knocking. That was definitely on my to-do list. Hey… where did you come from? Why are you not in your room?"

He quirked one eyebrow, and tried – unsuccessfully – to suppress a smirk. "Where did I come from? Did… you miss that class back in high school? See, Veronica, when a mommy and a daddy love each other veeeeeery much, sometimes they get together and have some special hugging, and…"

Veronica walked up and clasped her hand over Logan's mouth to keep him from talking any more. "Ha ha, funnypants. I just meant that I've been waiting here for a while and didn't even notice that you weren't home, so… I'm sorry. I know I don't have a ton of right to pry. I can't help it." She shrugged, "it's who I am."

"Mrphwem murgle phem." He mumbled into the palm of her hand. "Merpha lbrlf armph lnardy."

She just sighed and dropped her hand. "In English, please?"

"I was down in the gym. Excuse me, the, ah," he stood up straighter and adopted the snooty tone of the receptionist who had corrected him on the "official" name, "motivational fitness and therapeutic spa area. Still had some, you know, aggression that needed to be worked out. I'm surprised you didn't hear the elevator ding when I came back up, I've been standing here for a good five minutes now, just waiting to see if you'd notice."

"Yeah, uh, I was… kind of lost in my head, there. Sorry. Anyway, um, now that you're here, can I come in? I just… wanted to talk to you."

Logan just glanced at her purse before reaching into his workout pants and pulling out his card key. "You know, you still have a key. There's a reason I never asked for it back."

"Yeah, you figured that my not having a key wouldn't exactly stop me if I needed to get into your room, so why bother, right?"

He just let out a soft laugh as he opened the door, ushering Veronica into the suite. "Yeah, okay. I suppose that makes two reasons I never asked for it back. So. Not to be blunt, Veronica, but why are you here? The last time I saw you, you were making it pretty clear that I was out of your life forever."

Veronica dropped her messenger bag onto the couch and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge before turning back to Logan. "No, the _last_ time you saw me, I'm pretty sure that I was making it clear that you're definitely not out of my life. I know I wasn't the only one getting eye-fucked in the middle of the cafeteria, Logan. I was giving as good as I was getting. The problem is, Piz happened to notice that as well."

"Ahhh Piz. I meant it, you know. The apology. Someone always has to pay, that's the code we live by, Veronica. It wasn't jealousy…" He caught her look of disbelief and amended himself, "It wasn't _just_ jealousy. I thought he taped you. You know what I did with Lilly's tapes. Do you really expect that I wouldn't overreact to that thought of _you_ having a tape out there too?"

She shot him a look and took a sip of her water. "I… can understand that. Appreciate it, even. It doesn't mean you were _right _to do what you did… but. I can accept that you were _trying _to do the right thing… at least our fucked up version of the right thing, anyway."

She took a deep breath, this would be the hard part. But, just like him, she knew how important it was to try and do the right thing, and being more open and honest, especially with him, was step number one. "I do know that my all-access pass to Pizneyland has been cancelled. Seems that I'm too much of a drug addict for him." She shrugged and sighed softly "the weird thing is, I'm not that upset about it. I'm more upset that I'm not more upset. Is that weird?"

"A drug addict? I've never seen you take a drug in your life. Jesus, Veronica. You won't even take aspirin unless you absolutely have to. Child of an addict here too, remember?"

"Oh Logan. You adorable dumbass. _You're_ my drug. I tried to deny it these past few months, tried to be with a nice guy, a normal guy, a guy who most girls would kill to be with… and it was like pulling out teeth. I was bored and unfulfilled. It's not who I am, and it's time that I accept that fact and stop fighting it. I've cost my father so much by fighting it. I've cost you, and Mac, and Wallace. All by trying to fight who I am." She winced at the memory of how much she had been ignoring her two best friends lately and knew that those were two more relationships she was going to have work hard on to repair.

"And it's not fair to any of you, or to me. I'm never going to be normal, and I think I'm okay with that. Or that I can be okay with it. Because I've decided that normal is boring, and that I'm going to be awesome instead. And, hopefully, there's still a chance for us to be awesome. Together. After I patch things up with dad. Well. Maybe before. At least once. Maybe twice. You know, if you want…"

"Veronica. You're rambling." Logan reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to focus. "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And I take exception to dumbass. Adorable I'm okay with, though."

Veronica stopped and took a breath, slowly looking up to stare into Logan's eyes, realizing in an instant how much of a mistake that was if she actually wanted to be able to form a coherent thought and turned around, leaning back against his chest.

"I need to take some time to get my head on straight, and to make amends with dad, but I was hoping… maybe… before I go to Virginia… that we might be able to get together and talk. About us. And about being an us. _Really_ being an us this time. I'm not saying it'll be perfect, and I'm not saying that we won't screw it up again, but Logan…" She worried her lower lip between her teeth, hesitating just a moment, but long enough to make Logan whether or not she was actually going to say it.

"I love you. I know I've never said that before, but I need you to know that. And I want to do what I can to make it work this time. Even," she gave an exaggerated shudder, "if that means _talking_, which hasn't exactly been our strong suit in the past..." she looked up at him then, a cheeky half-grin on her face. "And then maybe we can do some _not_ talking and…"

"Veronica." Logan interrupted her, turning her back around to be able to look at her face, reaching one hand up to cup her cheek, lightly running his finger across her soft skin. "I'm leaving. Neptune. I talked to the new Dean and got my transcripts. I'm transferring. I need… I need some time. I need to figure out who I am, without being Logan Echolls – Son of Hollywood. I need to figure out who just plain Logan Echolls is, and who just plain Logan Echolls wants to be."

"But… you can figure that out here. With me. In Neptune. Where you live."

He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. "I can't, Veronica. Here I'm part of LoganandVeronica. And I love that. I do. But I need to figure out who Logan is when he's not part of LoganandVeronica. I came to Hearst to be with you, not because I felt any real desire to be here. I stayed in Neptune to be with you, not because I have a ton of connection here. I need to get away and just… be."

Veronica felt her eyes welling up and a lump forming in her throat. "No… there's plenty for you here, Logan. What about Dick? And Mac? That website thing you're doing with her?"

Logan wrapped his arms around Veronica, holding her close as she started to shudder, hearing her sniffling against his chest as he tried to comfort her. "Well, first off, I'm going to ignore the fact that you're pretending to care about Dick, though I do give you points for managing to get that whole sentence out without gagging."

"Thank you. It was hard. I think I should get extra credit."

"Duly noted. And second, gradeyourass is a website. One that doesn't require my immediate presence to function, so I can still keep in contact with our Miss Mackenzie from wherever I end up and keep it going just fine. And you're skipping the question you really want to ask."

She forced herself to raise her head and look up at him, feeling hot tears streaking down her cheeks as she pressed herself as close to his lean body as she could. "What about me? What about us? What are we going to do, Logan? _Is_ there still going to be an us? Are you leaving to get away from me? I don't… what does this mean, Logan?"

"Veronica. I promise, I'm not doing this to be mean to you, or to punish you. I have no interest in getting away from you. I'm not leaving _because_ of you. I'm leaving _for_ me. I've been… coasting. For years. And I need to figure out how to stop just existing and actually live. I promise you, Veronica, I'm not leaving you. No matter where I end up, I'll make sure there's a way for you to get a hold of me. Even if I have to set up a bunch of wood piles on top of buildings and have you light them when you have need."

Veronica sniffled and buried her head against Logan's chest. "The beacons of Neptune are lit. Veronica calls for aid."

Logan laughed and hugged her tightly. "And Logan shall answer. Now see, aren't you glad I made you watch all twelve hours of the Lord of the Rings with me? You learned something!"

"Yeah, you giant dork, I learned that Viggo is hot as hell."

"Oh Veronica… I actually knew that going into the movies. So I'm one up on you. Advantage, Echolls."

Veronica pulled back out of Logan's embrace, biting her lip to try and control her emotions, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. "So what happens now. When are you leaving? I go to Virginia in a week… will you be around when I go?"

"I will. I'm going to figure out where I'm going and when you get back…"

Veronica nodded, not wanting to hear him say it. "So. We have a week."

"Veronica… I don't know if I can do that and still be able to leave."

"Yeah, well. We have this week. And I'm going to take as much advantage of it as I can. If that means you don't think you can leave… bonus points for me. But I know what this is, Logan. And I know what it isn't. And I'm going to give you as much of me to remember as I can."

Veronica started walking towards Logan's bedroom door, silently stripping off her shirt and dropping it to the floor, shimmying her jeans off as well, leaving a trail of clothes behind her.

"Are you coming, Logan? Or am I going to have to start without you?"

Logan inhaled deeply at that visual, eyes darkening at the images it elicited. "God help me, bobcat, don't you dare start without me." He shucked his shirt off as well and followed her into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.


	2. An Assignment

To reiterate: Not mine. Don't own. Plz don't sue.

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**2\. An Assignment**

**Location Classified**  
**Wednesday, March 23, 2016**  
**2:48 p.m.**

"Ventrue, I have eyes on the target. Looks like about a thousand meters from your position. Wind… twelve knots. South-southeast. Make sure you adjust accordingly. We're only getting one opportunity at this."

"Have I mentioned how much I fucking hate that callsign? Because I do. I hate it. And I hate you for coming up with it. Next time, I'm picking the callsigns."

"No can do, Ventrue. I have seniority, I pick the callsigns. Dem rules be dem rules, and you know what the big boss says…"

"Oh yes, let me mark this day down in my calendar. March 23, 2016, Spex says he cares about the rules. March 24, 2016. The apocalypse. And your 'seniority' is, like, a week. Tops. You joined the program at almost the same time that I did."

"A week's seniority is still seniority, mon frère. And don't you forget that. Besides, I happen to think the name fits you, Ventrue. Blue blooded. Aristocratic. Specific feeding preferences… well. Not so much 'feeding' as 'fu…..'"

"Gentlemen." A new voice came over the comm units, "need I remind you both that we are on a mission right now. After we've accomplished our goal, you two can go right back to flirting, but for now, would you please fucking concentrate on the task at hand?"

"Yes sir."

"Sorry sir."

"Alright, Spex. I have eyes on the target now. Exiting the limo. Looks like… two girls with him. Fuck. They can't be older than fifteen. Jesus. This fucking dirtbag."

"Yeah, that's part of why we're here Ventrue. I'm calling it green. Go when you're ready."

The man known as Ventrue trained the crosshairs of his rifle above the target, compensating for the wind and for gravity. He took one slow, deep breath in, settling his rifle down and making sure he was good to go. He exhaled, slow and steady, and squeezed the trigger in one smooth stroke.

One and a half seconds later, the .338 Lapua Magnum round entered Kuzma Zharkov's chest and exploded out his back, dropping the Russian crime boss before he even realized that he had been targeted.

Spex let out a low whistle as he glimpsed the kill through his binoculars, clicking his radio as he saw the body falling to the ground. "That's a clean kill. Bandit is down."

Ventrue nodded and proceeded to start disassembling his rifle. "Roger. Clean kill."

"Alright gentlemen. Proceed to exfil. Let's get you back home."

"Spex is clear, proceeding to exfil."

"Ventrue is clear, proceeding to exfil."

Ventrue headed down the stairs towards the train station, turning his coat up against the cold as sirens echoed down the streets, passing by a deli as he headed towards the exfiltration zone.

Unfortunately, in his haste, he hadn't noticed the new security camera installed inside the deli.

Unfortunately, the new security camera installed inside the deli had noticed him.

**Location Undisclosed**  
**Tuesday, April 19, 2016**  
**5:37 p.m.**

"Chto yebat' ty glupyye kuski der'ma delat'?" Shouted an angry voice, causing several of the assembled to choke on their drinks. "Eto byl mesyats, i vy sidite zdes', na vashikh zhirovykh grebanykh oslov vmesto tam nayti, ktoyebet vystrelil Kuz'mu."

("What the fuck are you stupid pieces of shit doing?" "It's been a month and you're sitting here on your fat fucking asses instead of out there finding who the fuck shot Kuzma.")

"Nachalnik, my byli po fotografiyam. Nikto nichego ne znayet. Chto yeshche vy khotite ot nas? My ne trakhat' magov."

("Boss, we've been through the photos. Nobody knows anything. What more do you want us to do? We're not fucking magicians.")

"YA khochu, chtoby ty chertovski VZGLYAD. Odin iz vas idiotov chto-to znayet, i ya prosto dolzhen begat' vashi kroshechnyye malo pamyati, poka chto samorodok ne vyskochit i my mozhem sdelat' eto ublyudok platit'."

("I want you to KEEP FUCKING LOOKING. One of you idiots knows something, and I just have to jog your tiny little memory until that nugget pops out and we can make this motherfucker pay.")

The men assembled around the table grumbled and started going through the surveillance photos yet again, looking for any sort of clue that could lead them to the identity of the mysterious shooter who had assassinated their former leader, knowing it was fruitless, but knowing that if they _didn't_ follow through on Fedot's orders, their new boss would find an inventive way to spur their enthusiasm for the task at hand. Rumors persisted that the last time he had had to exercise his motivational skills, the poor ublyudok hadn't regained the ability to walk for six months.

A hand reached out and gripped one of the photographs, the owner staring at the glossy paper intently before speaking. "Vot etot. YA dumayu, chto... YA dumayu, chto ya znayu, eto odno. YA videl litso ran'she, gde-to"

("This one. I think... I think I know this one. I've seen the face before, somewhere.")

"Vy! Kto yebat' ty? Pochemu ty ne skazal mne etogo ran'she? My potratili ves' etot grebanyy mesyats uzhe!"

("You! Who the fuck are you? Why have you not told me this before? We've wasted this entire fucking month already!")

"YA priyekhal tol'ko segodnya utrom. Eto moya pervaya vstrecha. U menya byli veshchi, chtoby zabotit'sya o v Amerike, prezhde chem ya mog uyti. Prosti menya za otsutstviye predydushchikh sobraniy, ser. Moy mal'chik... on... khlopotno. Yesli by ya znal, chto ya mog by pomoch' vam v etom voprose, ya by sdelal pervyy reys. Vy dolzhny ponyat'…"

("I arrived just this morning. This is my first meeting. I've had things to take care of in America before I could get away. Forgive me for missing the previous gatherings, sir. My boy... he is... troublesome. If I had known that I could have helped you in this matter, I would have taken the first flight out. You have to understand...")

"Ochen' khorosho. Vy budete imet' vozmozhnost' sdelat' dlya vashego nekompetentnosti. Vy i vash mal'chik. Vy govorite, chto vy znayete etogo cheloveka... "A hand reached out and snatched the photograph away, the man in charge sneered down at the image, hocking a gob of spit onto the paper and handing it back to the man who had identified the picture. "Ochen' khorosho. YA ostavlyayu eto Vam, chtoby delat' to, chto dolzhno byt' sdelano. Mne ne nuzhno, chtoby predupredit' vas o tom, chto proizoydet, yesli vy ne v sostoyanii mne v etom, ya nadeyus'?"

("Very well. You will have an opportunity to make up for your incompetence. You and your boy. You say you know this man..." "Very well. I leave it to you to do what must be done. I don't need to warn you about what will happen if you fail me in this, I trust?")

"Net ser. My ne podvedet. Eto glupo kusok musora budut platit' za to, chto on sdelal."

("No sir. We will not let you down. This stupid piece of trash will be made to pay for what he has done.")

"Khorosho. Teper' idi. Pozabot'tes' o etom voprose. Ostal'nyye iz vas... u nas yest' drugoy biznes, chtoby obsudit'…"

("Good. Go now. Take care of this matter. The rest of you... we have other business to discuss...")

Lev Sorokin gripped the photograph in his hand as he exited the dusty warehouse, leaving the other underbosses behind to discuss business with the new head of the Russian mafiya, the beginnings of a plan formulating in his mind. He would show Fedot Varennikov that the Sorokin bratva was one that could be counted on. He would show all these staryye sukiny deti that just because he was stuck in blya Amerika, it didn't mean that the Sorokins couldn't sit at the table with the big boys.

_Oh yes,_ Lev Sorokin thought, as he crumpled the photograph and pitched it onto the ground, _the Sorokins will finally have their place at the table and the respect they deserved._

**Interlude One**  
**A Phone Call**  
**Friday, May 13, 2016**  
**4:19 p.m.**

"So, you have a plan to rectify the situation then?"

"Yes. We just need your assistance with the matter we discussed…"

"I do like how you phrased that. 'The matter we discussed'." The voice chuckled softly. "Alright, you'll have what you need. I have just the person in mind. His discretion is absolute."

"You know that after he does it…"

"Pawns are meant to be sacrificed. That is their purpose. He has served loyally, and now he's going to show the ultimate loyalty in his sacrifice." The voice paused for a second, before intoning, in a faux British accent, "For the greater good."

"Spasibo, Mr. K…."

*click*

**J. Edgar Hoover Building**  
**FBI Headquarters**  
**Washington, D.C.**  
**Friday, June 10, 2016**  
**9:38 a.m.**

Veronica Mars was bored. Bored bored bored. Which happened to be an all-too-common state of being over the past few months, unfortunately. Her dream of becoming an FBI agent had, at first, been full of excitement and opportunity, but now… five years into her tenure as a field agent, Veronica Mars was bored.

The last time she had talked to her father, both he and Alicia had seemed less than surprised by her pronouncement.

_"__Honey", Keith had said, "I love you, but you were never one for rules and following procedure. It's not surprising that you'd be feeling burnt out now, especially after what happened with your case against that serial killer… I remember as sheriff how it would always sting when a scumbag got off light because he had some information to flip."_

_"__Yeah. I just. I don't know dad. I'm not feeling it anymore. I wake up, go to work, go home, eat shitty take out, go to sleep, rinse and repeat. There's nothing outside of work, and the work just isn't…" Veronica was interrupted by the sound of Gia Goodman's voice coming over the phone._

_"__Excuse me, Mayor Mars, your two-o-clock is here. Hi Veronica! How are you? How's Washington? You're coming back for the reunion right? Oh I can't wait to catch up with you! We're going to have SO MUCH to talk about!"_

_"__Gia!" Keith sighed exasperatedly, "Thank you for informing me about my appointment, but I've told you numerous times not to interrupt my phone calls. Daddy daughter time is precious to me, and, quite frankly, the Citizens Against the Peripheral Canal and Other Wasteful Projects can wait a damn minute while I catch up with my only daughter."_

_"__Fine!" whined Gia in a huff, "See if I try and help you keep track of your appointments anymore. God Mr. Mayor Mars, I don't think you appreciate me. I mean, I provide an enormous amount of…" Gia's ranting trailed off as she finally disconnected herself from the line._

_"__Dad, if you have a meeting, you have to take it. I know you hate them, but it's all a part of the job, Mr. Mayor" Veronica said, pride still shining through her voice at the thought of her dad finally getting the recognition and respect that he deserved. "I still wonder just why you keep Gia on-board, thought. Doesn't she drive you crazy?"_

_"__You have no idea, honey. But unfortunately, she's the only one around who actually has any experience with the city government anymore. And we both know I'm too old to try and learn all the ins and outs of governing now."_

_"__Oh dad, your shameless attempts at getting me to tell you how young you are aren't going to work this time. Send Alicia my love, will you?"_

_"__Of course, honey. And though you might have missed it in all the rambling… ARE you planning on coming back for the reunion? Ten years… that's a big one…"_

_"__I… don't know dad. I haven't even thought about it. But I have to go now, Pileggi's gesticulating wildly. I'll talk to you soon."_

Veronica pulled herself out of her reminiscing, still undecided on whether or not she wanted to brave the "civilized world" of Neptune and her ten year high school reunion. On the one hand… she would get to see Mac and Wallace again. On the other hand… there would be other people there. And other people suck.

Veronica buried her head in her arms on her desk and let out a loud sigh, chancing a glance at the clock, hoping that somehow, magically, five hours had passed by and she was close to being able to go home. Sadly, however, the clock insisted on taunting her with its non-compliance with her wishes, and she groaned as she watched the seconds slowly ticking by, letting out a little grunt as the minute hand clicked forward to 9:39 a.m.

"Well… one more minute down. Only about 450 more to go. Damn it. I'm going to need more coffee if I'm going to make it through this day."

Veronica pushed her chair back and grabbed her empty coffee mug, knowing that a third coffee run this early in the morning was not exactly a sign of good things to come. Hearing a loud male voice calling her name, she glanced up to see ASAC Nicholas Leykin waving her over.

"Agent Mars. I've been put in charge of a special Anti terrorism/organized crime joint task force. And I'm shanghaiing you to be a part of it. Get your ass into conference room B."

"Uh, excuse me? That's _Special_ Agent Mars, sir. I have a badge and everything." Veronica pulled out said badge and held it in front of the senior agent's face. "See? Says so right there."

"Mars, I have no time for your cutsey shit. Move it." Leykin huffed and marched into the conference room.

_"__God"_ thought Veronica _"Why the hell did I ever fuck that guy? And he wasn't even that good, either. Ugh. I seriously need to reexamine my taste in men." _As she sighed and meandered into the room, taking a seat at the end of the table and glancing around, not seeing any familiar faces.

"Well", said a voice from the corner of the room, "at least this meeting isn't a _total_ waste. Hi. I'm Dom."

Veronica turned to the voice and rolled her eyes at the agent who had decided that a staff meeting was apparently the best place to try and pick up women. "Hi, I'm not even interested. But thanks for playing. We have some lovely parting gifts for you backstage."

"Backstage? Is that what we're calli…" the agent managed to get out before being interrupted by Agent Leykin getting the room's attention.

"Gentlemen. And Agent Mars. You're here because we believe that there is a threat to the United States of America. For the past year, we've been tracking an investment firm on allegations of insider trading. As it turns out, what's really going on there may be more serious than we had initially thought."

He clicked a button and the slide projector whirred to life, a photograph of a fairly unassuming nine-story tall building being projected onto the screen.

"This is Hendley Associates. It is a privately held financial trading firm in West Odenton, Maryland. It is wholly unremarkable, except for two things. It lies on a direct line of sight to both Fort Meade and Langley, and it is the _only_ building above two stories tall on that line. Over the past several decades, numerous private industries have sought permits to build on this land, and were denied. Until Hendley. We believe that they have used money and insider contacts in order to gain access to this particular point of land and are, somehow, tapping into the communications between the NSA and the CIA in order to gain insider information for financial gain."

Agent Leykin paused, making sure that all the agents were following along. His eyes roamed over Agent Mars – damn he missed having her tight little body in his bed, but her attitude… well. She wasn't _that_ hot. And blondes were a dime a dozen here in Washington – and paused for a moment as he took in the agent sitting in the corner. He didn't recognize the dark haired man, but, this was a top secret task force, so clearly the agent was supposed to be here. He'd ask around after the presentation.

Taking a sip of water, Leykin continued with the briefing. "The only questions we have are who, exactly, is bankrolling this operation. That's where you come in. We don't know if it's organized crime, or a foreign government, and to be quite frank, we're _hoping_ its organized crime. The thought of a foreign government with access to both NSA and CIA communiqués… well. That's the shit that nightmares are made out of. The last thing we need is North Korea or China having the access to plot another 9/11, or another Ebola attack."

"Uh sir?" Veronica raised her hand and called out, "While I wholeheartedly agree that that particular scenario would be _bad_, I fail to see why I've been included on this task force. I have no particular background in either counter terror OR organized crime. Nor do I have any experience in the financial markets which could be of use to this investigation."

"Well, agent, I would be thrilled to go undercover for this particular assignment, but I, unlike you, am not a blonde seven with perky tits. Which intelligence suggests our lead suspect just happens to be a fan of."

Several of the male agents in the room snickered at that, feeling some resentment towards this relatively new and inexperienced agent getting a plum undercover assignment that could go far in making a career. The snickers quickly stopped as Veronica turned a frosty glare upon them, mentally cataloguing faces to add to her list.

"Excuse me? A _seven_? Ignoring the fairly blatant case of sexual harassment, I repeat my question. What. The fuck. Am I. Doing. Here?"

"You, Miss Mars…"

"Special Agent Mars, please and thank you."

"Special. Agent. Mars. Are here because you do happen to bring a particular area of expertise to this investigation. One that, I'm afraid, none of your fellow agents can match. Otherwise, I assure you, you would _not_ be included in this meeting."

"Well glad to be a part of the team, Sir Sack, sir. Um, what area of expertise would that be, exactly? Spunk? Pep? Oh, I know, the ability to eviscerate men at twenty paces using only my wits?"

ASAC Leykin turned a baleful glare on Veronica, grunting at her cutting remarks as some of the other agents in the room started snickering. "As it so happens, Agent Mars…"

Veronica mimed zipping her lips, eyes wide as she pretended to hang on his every word.

"Your, ah, vast experience with men is precisely why I've asked you to join this investigation, yes. Though I've heard it has less to do with evisceration and more… well. I'm sure you know."

_"__Great"_ fumed Veronica, _"ten years out of high school and I'm STILL getting slut jokes thrown at me. Ohhhh Nicky, welcome to my shit list."_

"As it so happens, you're here for your expertise with one male in particular." Agent Leykin clicked the remote again and a new picture was displayed on the screen.

It had been eight years since she had seen him last, and truth be told, it was REALLY unfair how well he wore those years. Time had done nothing to diminish the fact that he was still a beautiful man, and the stubble he had apparently started cultivating made him doubly so.

_"__God damn that boy can pull off a pair of jeans." _Thought Veronica as she stared at the photograph, feeling her mouth starting to water and her heart rate accelerating. _"Mmm. Pulling off jeans. No. Bad Veronica. Bad bad Veronica. Yeah. I should be spanked. Definitely. Oh holy crap I have to stop fantasizing now._ _People are starting to stare."_

Veronica glanced from the picture to ASAC Leykin, well aware of the eyes of the other agents on her as they gauged her reaction to the photograph. "No way. There's no way that he's involved in anything shady. Terrorism? Organized crime? Absolutely not. That's just not possible."

"Well then, Veronica, I look forward to your explanation of just why your ex-boyfriend is working for Hendley Associates."

Veronica turned back to the photograph and sighed. _"God damn it, Logan. What the hell are you mixed up in now?"_


	3. A Sort of Homecoming

Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine.

* * *

**3\. A Sort of Homecoming**

**United Airlines Flight 229**  
**Nonstop from Washington D.C. to San Diego**  
**Somewhere over Kansas**  
**June 12, 2016**  
**10:27 a.m. Central Standard Time**

Veronica Mars sighed and leaned back in her seat, enjoying the peace and quiet that first class managed to bring. "_Truly_", she thought, "_frequent flier miles are the only benefit to being an FBI Agent and having to travel to Bumfuck, North Dakota every other week. And damn it, since I know the rest of my week is going to be complete shit, I definitely don't feel bad about using them to upgrade. At least maybe I'll have a chance to relax before entering the Ninth Circle of Hell._" Taking a sip of her water, she resolved to get back to working through the files on her illustrious ex instead of putting it off even further.

Picking up her iPad, she flicked through the remarkably little amount of information that the FBI had managed to find on Logan. "_Huh. Legal name change in 2008 to Logan… Lester. Well… that explains why I couldn't find anything about Logan Echolls. Graduated from Cal-Berkley in 2010 with a Bachelor's in… International Relations? That's pretty damn impressive, actually. I wonder what THAT'S about._" She wondered to herself.

"_And then… nothing. At all. From May 2011 til July 2013 when he suddenly pops up in Virginia at Hendley Associates as Logan Echolls again. What the hell, Logan? Three years you've been in Virginia and you never reached out?_" Scowling at the dates on the screen, she shook her head and sighed aloud. "_Well, Veronica, it's not like you made an effort to track him down either. Five years in the FBI and you're just finding out this stuff about him now. Can't put ALL the blame on Logan, now can I?_"

"Sometimes I really hate being an adult. Fairness is stupid." She grumped.

"Excuse me? Were you talking to me, miss?" asked the businesswoman in the seat next to her.

"Oh no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you, I was just…" Veronica paused for a moment, trying to figure out the right words before deciding on pure, blunt, honesty. "I was commenting on how I hate having to be an adult and stop blaming everything on my ex when I share the responsibility as much as he does."

The woman nodded and smiled softly, "Trust me, that's not a unique feeling. One of the signs of growing up is recognizing that sometimes, it just flat out sucks being a grown up."

Veronica couldn't stop the laugh that had bubbled up and the woman in the seat next to her soon joined in.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed that. It's been… a shitty couple of days. Work has been… I'm sorry. I'm sure you don't need to have a stranger on the plane dump all their troubles on you." She glanced over at the book in the woman's hands and let out a mock gasp of shock.

"Oh my. Is that a book? Like, an ACTUAL honest to god book? I remember hearing about those when I was a little girl…"

The woman gave Veronica a sardonic grin and nodded at the iPad sitting on the tray table in return. "I know that tablets are de rigueur these days, but sometimes I just enjoy the feeling of a real book in my hands. Have you read this one?" She held up the cover so Veronica could see.

"Oh I haven't had the time to read a book since…" Veronica paused, trying to figure out exactly when the last time she had read was. "Senior year of college. Good lord. And even then it wasn't for pleasure, just a stupid Psych textbook. What's that one about?"

"Well, it's about this teenage girl who goes around solving crimes with the help of her dad. I know, I know, it's a little farfetched, but the writing is just so good that I can ignore the implausibility."

The woman didn't notice Veronica's slow blink as she continued on talking about the book she was reading. "This one is actually the third in a series, the girl has just gotten a new puppy and she and her father are training the puppy to be an attack dog. It's honestly kind of adorable and… I'm sorry, I'm rambling on. What did you say you do for a living? You studied Psychology? Are you a therapist?"

"Ah… I'm an FBI agent, actually."

There was a moment of absolute silence from the seat next to Veronica as her neighbor processed that information.

"So. I suppose it's NOT that implausible, actually." As they both started laughing again. "No wonder you never get a chance to read anymore. That job must keep you incredibly busy. Oh, is that what you were looking at earlier? Are you tracking down some dangerous criminal?"

"Worse, actually." Veronica sighed dramatically. "I'm heading home for my high school's ten year reunion."

XXX

The two women had chatted amicably for another half an hour before Veronica's seatmate had become engrossed in her book, giving her an opportunity to lean her head back in her seat and try to decompress.

After the meeting at FBI headquarters, she had been pulled aside by Leykin and given the briefing materials on both Logan and Hendley Associates. Material she had steadfastly avoided reading yesterday while she made her flight arrangements and packed for the trip home.

She closed her eyes and tried to make sense of the assignment she had been given.

_"__I understand that I had a… connection… with Logan, but that was years ago. I haven't seen or talked to him in almost a decade. What POSSIBLE use could I be to this investigation?" She had demanded after the briefing had let out and the conversation had moved to his office._

_"__It's simple, Mars. We want you to reconnect with him. Get close to him. Use your investigative skills to figure out what he's been up to. We have the tech guys making up a program for you to upload onto his phone. It will allow us to track his GPS location, as well as allowing us to keep track of his incoming and outgoing phone calls and text messages."_

_"__Uh huh. And just how am I supposed to get close enough to him to upload this program, exactly?"_

_Leykin smirked at her then, leering at her petite form, eyes roaming up and down her body. "Oh, I trust that you'll figure out a way, agent."_

_"__Ugh. And now I need a shower. And I swear to god, if you say ANYTHING…"_

_He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I would NEVER. That would be inappropriate and wrong. We here at the FBI have a zero tolerance policy on sexual harassment, and I resent the implication, sugarbritches."_

_"__God. You are SO disgusting. I seriously can't believe I ever fucked you. I must have been concussed or something."_

_Veronica made exaggerated gagging noises, attracting curious glances from some passersby, and sympathetic smiles from some of the other women in the offices_

_"__Okay, if you're finished being a gigantic creep. Can we get back to the briefing, please?"_

_"__Oh Agent Mars, if you want to get back to my briefs, all yo…"_

_"__If you finish that sentence, I swear to God I will draw my gun and shoot you where you stand. And there isn't a jury on this Earth that would convict me after I got through testifying. Logan. Hendley Associates. How, exactly, am I supposed to investigate him? I don't even know where he is these days."_

_Leykin pulled an iPad out of the drawer and handed it to her. "This has all our files on Hendley and on your boyfriend. Your flight leaves Sunday morning. You have an e-ticket waiting. Just show your ID at the gate. You know the drill."_

_"__Wait. Flight? What flight? Where am I going?" _

_"__Well as it turns out, Agent Mars, you have a ten year high school reunion coming up. Veronica Mars is heading back home to Neptune. What better way to 'accidentally' run into an ex?" At the look of dawning horror creeping across her face, he couldn't help but sneer and twist the knife even more. "And you know what they say about mixing business with pleasure, right? Or do you need a refresher course?"_

_"__No. No way. Figure something else out. I. Am. Not. Going. To. This. God. Damned. Reunion. Not a chance in hell. Nope. Not happening. No fucking way."_

**Interlude Two**  
**A Phone Call**  
**June 12, 2016**  
**12:52 p.m. EST**

"_What_ did you just say?"

"Um. She's on her way home. I don't understand why you're upset… isn't this what you wanted? Isn't the plan to get them together and then…"

"You absolute moron. We had a plan in place. What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing. All your imbecilic idea is going to do is complicate matters and possibly expose you to unnecessary attention."

"I… didn't know."

"Of course you didn't fucking know. Your job is not to know. Your job is to do_ what I fucking tell you to._ You had better hope that everything goes according to plan. If it doesn't… I fear your value to me will be diminished."

"Yes sir." There was an audible gulp, and when the voice spoke again, it did so with a waver. "Tell me what to do. You know I can still provide value… I swear. Tell me how to fix it and I will."

"You? You will do _nothing_. Do you understand me? Sit. Stay. Your part is done here. Just pray that _you_ are not done as well." The voice paused for a moment, "No. Actually, there _is_ something you can do for me."

"Anything. Just tell me what I can do, and I'll do it."

"The next time the word 'initiative' enters that tiny little pea brain of yours, _smash a fucking hammer into your skull and save me the trouble of having to do it myself._"

*click*

**United Airlines Flight 229**  
**Nonstop from Washington D.C. to San Diego**  
**Arrival at San Diego**  
**June 12, 2016**  
**10:47 Pacific Standard Time**

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking." The voice over the intercom brought Veronica out of her half-asleep daze, thoughts of Logan having been running through her mind for the last hour. "We are preparing for landing in beautiful, sunny San Diego, California where the temperature is a lovely 64 degrees and the skies are clear and blue. Local time is about 10:45 a.m. and we just want to give you all a big thank you for flying United. We hope you enjoy your stay here in San Diego, or wherever your final destination ends up being."

The intercom dinged off and she sighed to herself. "_Well. Welcome back to California. I guess it's real now._" She gathered her things about her as the plane touched down and taxied towards the gate. Forcing a smile on her face, she thanked her seatmate for helping her have a few moments of relaxation on the flight.

After disembarking, she through the terminal and started making her way to baggage claim. The sound of her name being called made her look up and a look of surprise crossed her face before she broke out into a genuine smile and ran towards her father, enveloping him in a hug.

"What are you doing here, dad? I thought I was just going to catch up to you when I got into town."

"You think I'm going to leave my favorite daughter alone in an airport without a ride? What if some stranger tried to offer you candy in order to get into a white van? We both know how much you like your sugar, honey…"

"Pfft. I'm an FBI agent, remember. I'd kick his ass and then take all the candy he had."

Keith laughed and hugged his daughter tightly, "I know. That's why I'm worried, I don't want you showing up at the house high on stolen candy, young lady."

Veronica wrapped her arm around her father's waist and the two of them started heading to the baggage carousel to pick up her luggage. "I'm so happy to see you, daddy. This is going to be a really bad week, but at least I get to start out with a _good_ surprise."

The two Mars' made their way towards Keith's shiny new Prius, loading Veronica's luggage into the back, as she struggled to not make a comment about how "sensible" a car her father had chosen before ultimately failing completely.

"What? No Pimpmobile? No Pussy Wagon? I'm shocked, Mr. Mayor. And aghast. What happened to all that 'wasteful spending' that you politician types are known for? Don't tell me that television has been lying to me my entire life…"

"Oh no honey, television told you the truth. I just had to trade in my Pimpmobile when I heard you were coming home for the reunion. We have to be able to afford feeding you _somehow_, and even wasteful spending goes only so far."

Her lips twitched in amusement. No matter how many times he teased her about her eating habits, she never felt anything but warmth – and a little amazement, to be honest – behind the comments. Feeling a rumbling in her belly that was half due to hunger, they had served breakfast on the plane but – even though it had been 10 a.m. for the vast majority of her flight due to the wonder of time zones – that _had_ been almost five hours ago, and half due to the thought of _really good_ Italian food for the first time in what seemed like ages, she glanced over at her father.

Anticipating her request, he sighed and nodded in the affirmative. "Yes, honey, we can stop at Luigi's on the way home. I actually called them last night to warn them that you were coming back. Antonio mentioned that he was going to have everyone come in early this morning, just to try and prepare."

"Oh you think you're so funny, dad." She rolled her eyes at him. "But, in the spirit of honesty and forthrightness – stop laughing – I will admit that that one actually was pretty good. But even a blind squirrel manages to find a nut now and then, so don't get cocky."

Keith's face was the picture of exaggerated innocence, which only made Veronica burst out laughing.

"I'm actually surprised you're here, dad. Doesn't being the mayor keep you busy? How can you just up and leave for a couple hours to pick up little old me?"

"Well it's Sunday, so there's not that much city business that needs to be done. And do you honestly think I wouldn't be here for my favorite –"

"Only."

"- daughter? Pshaw, sweetheart. Besides, I left someone in charge back in Neptune, just in case."

"Oh? Who'd you leave in ch… oh no. It's no Gia, is it? Please tell me you didn't leave Gia in charge of the government while you came to get me, dad…"

"While I appreciate Gia's knowledge of city government and the invaluable help she's been to me, but there is absolutely no chance I'd leave her in a position of responsibility."

"Phew."

He glanced over at her as she let out a sigh of relief. "Just how irresponsible do you think I am, young lady?" He paused for a beat, "I left Darrell in charge."

"… Still better than Gia."

**XXX**

Halfway home, Veronica finally broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the car, staring out the window at the gorgeous California day speeding past the window, mentally preparing herself for the answer. "So how bad is it in Neptune, dad?"

Keith took his eyes off the road for a second to look over at her, slouching back in the seat, her face hidden as she continued watching the scenery and tried to figure out what, exactly, to say. "It's… not good, honey. The Fitzpatricks are stronger than ever. The Russians came in shortly after you transferred to Maryland. For a while, they were fighting each other, but a few years ago they, apparently, called a truce. Which meant that instead of spending resources fighting, they started spending them on building their businesses. Drug use is up. Crime is up. People don't feel safe anymore, and it's hard to blame them."

"And tell me again _why_ you decided not to run for sheriff? Or why you haven't fired Vinnie? You _know_ he's corrupt as hell. If you got him out and someone who was actually capable in the Sheriff's Department, you could work on taking out both the Fitzpatricks and the Russians."

He sighed. They had had the conversation before, four years earlier, when he had told her that he wasn't running again for sheriff. "I didn't have the money or the votes. With the Fitzpatricks and Kane Software bankrolling Vinnie, there was no way I could compete. Plus, honestly, I wanted to take the time to work on repairing my relationship with Alicia. Can you really begrudge me that?"

"And yet, now you're the mayor. You can fire Vinnie. You should do it. Can I be there when you do? I want to take pictures."

"I can't just fire him, sweetheart. The people of Balboa County elected him. There are hoops I have to jump through, and even then, I need evidence in order to fire him. Evidence I just don't have."

"But he's dirty. You know he's dirty."

"Of course he's dirty. I _know_ he's dirty. You _know_ he's dirty. Hell, the people of Neptune _know_ he's dirty. But we don't have the evidence. For all of Vinnie Van Lowe's faults, and there are _many_, he's not a stupid man. I wish he was, it would make things a lot easier."

"Well if the entire town knows he's dirty, how the fuck did he get re-elected?" She grumbled.

"Money. Powerful allies. Voter intimidation. Allegations of fraud. All of the above? Nothing provable, just talk." He paused for a moment. "You know what Neptune is like. Good things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people. I'm doing what I can but… it's Neptune."

She let out a sigh of exhaustion. The morning which had, against all odds, begun so well now seemed darker and more depressing as they drove on.

"Yeah. It's Neptune."

The car descended into silence once more.

**XXX**

"So have you heard from Wallace lately? Or Mac?"

Keith looked at her reflection in the rear view mirror, the sudden question breaking the now tense quiet that had been bathing the car for the last several miles.

"Wallace is good, still up in Long Beach and still enjoying his job. I have no idea what it is that a structural analysis engineer actually does, but as long as it makes him happy, that's all that matters. Plus I'm pretty sure that Boeing pays him more than I make, so there's that."

"Yeah, but it's expected that you'll supplement your income with bribes, it's kind of like getting tips for being a waitress."

He let out a low chuckle at that. "And Alicia and I try to have Mac and Alex over at least once a month for dinner. She's still over at Casablancas Enterprises, and I know how much you hate Dick Casablancas, honey, but I wouldn't be mayor right now without their support and finances."

"I know, dad. And I… appreciate what Dick did for you. It doesn't mean I've stopped hating him, but I can start… accepting the fact that maybe – _maybe _– he's grown up. A little. I think Mac's been good for him. And I never thought I'd say any of those words, so please don't make me do it again."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"So I assume Mac and Dick are going to come to the reunion, since they live in Neptune? And Wallace is coming down from Long Beach? Have you heard from anyone else about whether or not they're coming?"

"Anyone, in this case, meaning….?"

"Meaning _anyone_, dad."

"I haven't heard from Logan, honey."

Veronica bit her lip and looked over at her father. "That transparent?"

"Not at all. Opaque, even. But I have known you your entire life, so I'd like to think that I know how to read you a little bit better than most people."

She smiled softly at that. "Well, I can't argue with that kind of logic, now can I?"

Keith hesitated for a moment, reaching over to squeeze her hand lightly. "Honey… I know you're not back here for the reunion. At least not solely for the reunion. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I… can't, dad. I mean that. I _can't_. And I know that you know what that means. You're not wrong, though. The reunion isn't entirely why I'm back. But any more than that, and…"

"Does… it have something to do with Logan? Is that what this is about? Is he involved in something? Something that requires the FBI?"

Veronica sighed and looked down at her lap. Shrugging her shoulders, she said in a quiet voice, "Have something to do with Logan? When _doesn't_ it."

Once more, silence reigned as the car passed the "Welcome to Neptune" sign on the way into town.

**XXX**

The silver Prius pulled into the driveway and Alicia watched as Keith and Veronica exited the vehicle and began unloading the luggage from the trunk. She opened the front door of the house and stepped out onto the porch as the first drops of rain began to fall from the clouds that had rolled in overhead. The sound of thunder echoed in the distance as she tried to figure out the words to tell her husband and stepdaughter about the phone call she had just received.

He noticed her first, glancing up as he pulled a bag out of the car. A pit of ice forming in his stomach as he saw the look on her face.

"Sweetheart," he said as he took Veronica's arm, "hold on for a second."

Alicia stopped in front of them, seeing the looks of dawning comprehension and confusion on their faces.

"Keith. Veronica. It's Lianne. She's been murdered."

Overhead, the rain continued to fall.


	4. An Arrest

Disclaimer: Still not mine.  
This chapter is completely unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are mine.

* * *

**4\. An Arrest**

**Private Residence  
Neptune, California, 90909  
June 12, 2016  
10:23 PST**

The television screen flickered silently, the captured image of a tiny blonde in the midst of a provocative striptease frozen on the screen, a cheerleader's skirt wrapped around the girl's waist as she leaned closer to her boyfriend, unaware that the hidden camera was positioned just right to be able to peek up her skirt to her thong-clad ass.

The sounds of flesh slapping and loud, harsh, grunting echoed throughout the room. A Russian-accented voice groaned "Little blonde slut… take it you little bitch… fucking whore. You'll beg me for…" before trailing off into a moan. The owner of the voice collapsed back against his chair, reaching out to grab a tissue from his desk and using it to clean himself off before turning off the DVD player and television.

"Jesus Christ, Gory. It's been eight fucking years. And you're still jerking it to that fucking creepy-ass video. You're so pathetic." Sneered a female voice from the entrance to the sparsely decorated office.

"Perhaps, my darling wife, if you were able to adequately service me, I wouldn't need to jerk off to this creepy-ass video." Said Gory Sororkin, as he unhurriedly zipped up his pants, taking care to toss the sticky, stained, tissue in the direction of his wife.

"God. You are so gross. You know that the only reason I ever married you was beca…."

The trilling of a cell phone cut her off, a smirk crossing Gory's face as he looked at the caller ID.

"Da?"

_"__She's on her way. The plane lands in about half an hour. You want I should…"_

"Yes. Have it done. We'll make sure she has a lovely welcome home gift." He glanced over at his wife, the look on his face making her shiver in fear. "And speaking of gifts, I think you and your friends deserve one as well… wouldn't you agree, Liam?"

Hannah Sorokin, née Griffith, blanched as she listened to her husband promise her as a "reward" for a job well done. She was used to the tender mercies of her "uncle" Liam and the rest of the Fitzpatricks by now. She barely even noticed the pain anymore.

The pills helped with that.

**Mars-Fennel Residence  
Neptune, California  
90906  
June 12, 2016  
11:36 a.m. PST**

"Mommy?" gasped Veronica, falling back against the Prius in shock. "She's… dead? No…" Her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head in disbelief, refusing to accept the news.

Keith rounded the car, his daughter's luggage forgotten on the rapidly dampening ground. He reached for her and pulled her into a comforting hug, her head buried itself into his shoulder as he glanced over at Alicia. "Did Vinnie... the… sheriff… say what happened? Was it…" he paused, not sure if he wanted to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue.

Alicia shook her head, knowing the question that her husband wanted to ask and relieving him from having to do so. "No. The sheriff didn't say anything about… that. He said something about witnesses noticing a tall black man in a black suit and trench coat following Lianne before the gunshot."

Veronica pulled away from her father, a hard look crossing her face. "Wiedman. Which means Jake."

"Honey. We don't know that. Even if it was Wiedman, it doesn't mean that Jake…"

"You KNOW it was Jake, dad. Or Celeste. You know that."

"We don't know that. We need to… we're too close to this, honey. We need to step back. Let the sheriff do his job."

"Oh please, dad. There's no chance in hell that Vinnie is going to put a second of his time into this. The Kanes own him. He's their sockpuppet."

"Sweetheart…"

"No. Don't sweetheart me. Mom's DEAD. Wiedman killed her. And they're going to get away with it because this is Neptune and the guilty go free while the innocent suffer. I need… I need to get away right now. Please let me borrow the car. I just need to clear my head."

Keith nodded reluctantly and handed her the keys. "Be careful. Don't…"

She gave him a half-hearted smile. "Don't worry dad. I'll stay clear of the Kanes. For now." She got behind the wheel and pulled out of the driveway, her luggage still half loaded in the backseat of the Prius as she drove off into the distance.

Alicia walked up behind Keith and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched Veronica drive away. "She'll be okay. She just needs…"

"I know what she needs… I just don't think this town will let her have it."

A flash of lightning speared the ground in the distance. A sense of unease surrounding the couple as the rumble of thunder echoed in the air.

"I'll call Wallace, I think he should be here."

**Interlude Three  
A Meeting  
June 12, 2016  
3:07 p.m. EST**

A voiced echoed down the hallway, causing the tall, lanky, man to stop in place and turn to meet the owner of the voice who had been trying to catch his attention.

"The news just came over the wire. The mother was gunned down. She didn't make it."

"Her mother? Jesus. I mean. Fuckdamnit. What the hell is the play here. Do we know who? Has anyone claimed responsibility?"

"According to the eyewitness report, it was a…" he glanced down at the paper in front of him "tall, African-American male, approximately 180 lbs, muscular, with a clean cut goatee. He was dressed in a black business suit, trench coat, and… there seems to be some discussion over whether it was a trilby or a fedora, but it's made clear that there was a hat of some sort involved."

"Well. That is a suspiciously detailed eyewitness report."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Alright. Tell the boss I'm moving up the timetable. I'm catching the next flight out. You're still set to arrive on Tuesday, yeah?"

"Yeah. I think I might bring another friend with me though. Just in case."

"Bring twelve."

**Casblancas Corp. Offices  
Neptune, California  
90906  
June 12, 2016  
12:14 p.m. PST**

"-Reverse the signals. They need to boost the mainframe and synchronize the number strings and modulate the audio filter matrix around the digital division. And they need to do it BEFORE the transfer stream gets overloaded or we'll have to reformat the entire server. Also, I need you to make another Dutch Brothers run because my caffeine intake is dangerously low. And you know what happens when my caffeine intake gets… Veronica?" the voice trailed off as the two women entered the office, the shorter one stopping abruptly as she laid eyes on her visitor.

"When your caffeine intake gets Veronica, ma'am? I don't understand…"

"I've told you a thousand times, Nicole. You call me ma'am again and you're fired. It's Mac. Just. Plain. Mac. Okay? And I wasn't talking to you there, I was talking to…" she gestured in front of her as the blonde woman stood up and gave a small wave.

"She meant me, I assume. Unless there's another Veronica around here…"

Cindy Mackenzie snorted and reached for the friend she hadn't seen since Wallace's graduation from Cal Poly two years before, pulling her into an embrace that was unhesitatingly returned, a gesture that caused Mac's brow to furrow. Her assistant took this cue to exit, making sure to close the office door behind her.

"God no. I'm pretty sure one Veronica is all Neptune can handle."

"Yeah, well, I'm more worried about how that one Veronica is going to handle Neptune than the other way around right now."

Mac peered into her friend's face, seeing the exhaustion and sorrow written there. "I didn't think you were coming back for the reunion. In fact, I know you didn't come back for the reunion. What's going on, Bond? What happened?"

The smaller woman took a deep breath. "There's… there's a lot going on. I can't talk about most of it. But my mom… my mom is dead. She was killed. And I know who did it. I just… I don't know why. And I don't know what to do. Because Vinnie is the sheriff. And we both know what that means."

There was a moment's silence before Mac shuffled the pair of them over towards her desk, refusing to remove her arms from around her friend, which caused the blonde to choke out a soft laugh and wrap her arms tighter around Mac's waist. She reached one elbow down and managed to nudge the intercom on her phone.

"Yes ma'a...aC." came the tinny voice.

"Nicole. We need booze. And a lot of it. And I'm not to be disturbed for the next… rest of the day. Okay?"

"Well it IS Sunday, so your schedule is pretty clear… though Mr. Casablancas requested an update on the server issues this afternoon…"

"Tell Dick that he can suck mine. He'll get an update when there's something to update. Booze. Now." She barked and clicked off the intercom before her assistant could get another word in.

"Damn, you give a girl a little power and it goes straight to her head. Does Mr. Casablancas know his employees have such bad pottymouths?"

"Employee my ass. I run this whole place, V. That's the whole reason Dick hired me in the first place. Well, that and he liked staring at my ass. He stopped THAT fun little activity quickly enough, though… you replace a guy's guacamole with wasabi and he becomes downright amenable to your demands. Especially when you've cut the water to the building also…"

"Remind me never to get on your bad side. Also remind me that I need to send you a fruit basket to thank you for your help getting my dad elected mayor. I know that without your backing, and your and Casey's help with the rest of the 09ers, that never would have happened…"

"That… was Dick, actually. He's the one who wanted to help… apparently he actually respect and fears your dad. Plus he has his own issues with the Kanes, so going against him was, honestly, kind of fun for him."

"Wait. You're telling me Dick actually did something that wasn't terrible?"

"Yeah. We were all shocked. Not gonna lie."

A knock on the door broke the amiable silence that had enveloped the office.

"Ah, That will be the booze."

**Interlude Four  
A Phone Call  
Neptune, California  
June 12, 2016  
12:27 PST**

_"__Where's the girl?"_

"She took off after the sheriff delivered the bad news. Right now she's holed up at the Casablancas building. One of my guys saw that receptionist with the nice ass picking up several bottles of booze at the liquor store, so we figure she'll be there for a while."

_"__Good. Her being drunk will only help. You have Wiedman ready to go?"_

"Yeah. Eyewitnesses are good to go. They know what to tell Van Lowe. It ain't gonna be a problem, Gory. You don't need to worry about our end."

_"__I had better not have to worry about your end. Because you don't want to know what happens if I do worry about your end."_

"Yes sir. We're good here. The bitch is going to get what's coming, I promise you that."

_"__Excellent. You keep up this exemplary work, and I may just have to come up with a way to reward you. Speaking of, are you enjoying the fruits of your labors from this morning?"_

Liam Fitzpatrick looked over his shoulder to the pool table where the nude, splayed form of Hannah Sorokin lay. Several members of his criminal family milled about, either having already had their turn, or waiting for her to regain consciousness so as to not waste their turn.

"Oh yeah. She's been enjoyed plenty. You don't need to worry 'bout that."

The line closed with a click, and on the pool table the abused young lady began to stir.

"Well well. Looks like sleepy beauty's wakin' up. Alright boys, step aside. Uncle Liam wants another turn."

**Mars-Fennel Residence  
Neptune, California  
90906  
June 12, 2016  
5:19 p.m. PST**

The silver Prius turned into the driveway, headlights flashing across the living room window as Veronica Mars returned home. Cutting the engine, she took a moment to gather herself before opening the car door and stepping out into the damp California air, a bottle of Monopolowa vodka dangling from her fingers

The front door of the house opened and she saw her father step outside, glancing at the alcohol in her hand and meeting her eyes with a disappointed look.

"It's not open, dad. I haven't had anything to drink, I swear. Mac, however… I don't even know how she handles it all. Her bloodstream has to be 70% caffeine and 30% alcohol at this point. But I made sure she got a safe ride home. Don't worry."

"Veronica Anne Mars. It's been… almost six hours. I know Mac got home safely, she called three hours ago and said that you had taken off, saying you just needed to be alone."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be gone so long. I just… needed some space. I love you. And I love Mac. And I love Alicia. And I know you just want to help. But right now…I just needed to be alone and try to figure things out. Because I'm sad that mom was killed. But I'm not distraught or anything. And I don't know if that means I'm a bad daughter..."

"Oh sweetheart." He stepped down onto the driveway and reached out, lifting her chin up so that he could look her in the eye. "You're not a bad daughter. She was your mother… but she hadn't been a mom to you in ten years. I think the reason you're not distraught is that… you already mourned her. After she left the last time…"

She sniffled and gave her father a watery smile. "You're the best dad. You know that? If it was you… distraught wouldn't even begin to cover it. I'd be broken. So you're not allowed to die. Ever. Got it, Mr. Mayor?"

"Well, I don't know about ever, honey, but I'll try my best."

"How are you doing? And Alicia?"

"It's… hard. Lianne and I divorced for many reasons, but I did love her. Despite her flaws. I know that she ran away from us and that I have every right not to mourn her because of what she's done, but I am mourning her. Because no matter what else she did, she gave me you. And I will always be grateful to her for that."

"You can butter me up all you like, mister, but I already bought your Father's Day present, and there are no refunds…"

Keith laughed and shook his head. "I can't believe they scheduled your reunion for the same weekend as Father's Day. Don't they know people have families?"

"I think that was the point, actually. Kind of a two-fer. Come home for the reunion AND visit your dad while you're at it… not just a guilt trip, a super mega guilt trip. You'd have to be pretty heartless to say no to that…"

"And yet, you would have remained out there in D.C. and I would have been here in Neptune, unvisited, all alone on Father's Day were it not for…"

"I happen to know, for a fact, that Wallace was planning on coming down from Long Beach, and obviously Darrell is still here with all the home-made gifts you could ever want. And honestly, I was considering sneaking into town next Sunday, just to see you… which is something of a moot point now…"

"I love Wallace like my own son, but you know you're always going to be my only daughter, and nothing means as much as being able to spend time with you, honey."

"Aw dad. You're going to make me cry again. Come on. Let's get inside and crack open this bottle."

The two of them headed towards the door, unaware of the Sheriff's Department car pulling up in front of the driveway. The slam of the car door caught them by surprise and they turned around to see Sheriff Vinnie Van Lowe striding towards them.

"Well look who's back in town. Long time, Veronica. Keith."

"Vinnie. What brings you by? Do you have any more information on Lianne?"

"Well it's funny that you happened to mention that, Mr. Mayor." Vinnie reached behind him to pull out a set of handcuffs before turning to Veronica with a sneer on his face. "Veronica Mars. You are hereby under arrest for the murder of one Clarence Wiedman. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights as I have blah blah blah?"

A dazed look came across Veronica's face as she was marched towards the back seat of Vinnie's car, her hands cuffed behind her as her father looked on, rage flickering across his face as he stared at Sheriff Vinnie Van Lowe.


End file.
